The Ciel Phantomhive Story Continued
by God-O-Strife
Summary: Ciel Phantomhive's life a century and a half later as a demon picking up off the anime series not the at sounds nice, doesn't it? Much to come. Much to come, as I am, simply one hell of a writer.


Wind did not often blow in places as dreary and desolate as Phantomhive Manor, the one stationed in Upstate New York, rather than the one on the outskirts of London. Everyone in the small town just over the trees and past the river new the Phantomhive name, but as more of a hoax and ghost story than one of respect. Over the years, at least a dozen teens had sneaked into the manor, unsuspecting, innocent, and never returning to see the light of day. They rumors said that a young lady dressed in fine clothes would sometimes stand at the window, her dark hair falling straight down her back and over her shoulders. Dark eyes, if you met them, seemed to stare straight into your soul. That made Phantomhive Manor even more enticing.

The police who went to question the persons of the manor always returned with a spooked look in their eyes, their spirits sucked out of them and their bodies aged at least ten years. They became more and more reluctant to find the missing teens; they claimed that, apparently, sneaking into the manor was code for running away, and spent their time searching everywhere but there. Everyone knew that was a lie.

But, even with those superstitions, the missing children and the proof, five high school seniors of Mellow Brook High School, MBHS, decided that the perfect celebration of their entrances into Ivy League Schools and top ranks in class was to enter the cursed Phantomhive manor. They believed that their skills, intelligence, places on varsity sports teams, and pure genius would let them be not only leaders of the high-school, but also the first to enter and leave Phantomhive Manor. To document their self-prophesized fame, they brought a camera.

Jared Peterson, Student Council president, captain of the varsity lacrosse team, and valedictorian, lead the group with his head held high and the camera faced at him and everyone behind him, narrating the story with an arrogant yet innocent sort of swagger, "So, tonight, heh, we. Make. History."

The twins, Maria and Jane Redbird, with their dark hair, high cheek bones, naturally tanned skin, yet contrast personalities stood side by side. They represented what all the girls wanted to be, cool, friendly, smart, cheerleading team co-captains. They had jobs lined up to go to New York City and model while they spent time going to college. No part-time job could rival looking beautiful and being envied everywhere than modeling, and on top of that, they had one way tickets to conquering the world with their acceptances to Berkley. They looked at him and said, one in an irritated tone, and one in a very sweet one, "Calm down, Jared. We haven't even gone in."

Jane scowled and Maria gave a small smile of encouragement. Jared felt happy to be dating the latter. Two more people, however, came on their excursion-brothers, Eric and Xander, be them step brothers, but brothers in all the like. They stood side by side, slight hatred between them, yet reluctant love between even real brothers stood there. They looked at Jane, enjoying the feisty one and then, said Xander, the older, "If you're scared, Janie, you can cling to me."

Eric grinned and began to mimic thrusting his hips while Jane scowled at them and then flashed the middle finger. Xander shook his head and Eric stopped thrusting and winked. Jane gave a groan and asked, "Can we get on with it, now? If you're, too, chicken, though, I can go first."

"I'm the leader! Nobody, not even the Phantomhive Manor can scare me! You hear that?!' Jared yelled, then threw a rock at the window.

"Yeah," Maria grinned, "and I'd follow you to the end of the world," placing a kiss on his cheek, then picking up a rock and throwing another stone

"Good thing you got that on camera," Xander chuckled, "otherwise nobody'd believe you dated such a hot lady."

"Thanky-," Maria began, but then a butter knife flew past her head, slicing her cheek just barely, and ebbed itself deep into the ground. But even so, a drop of blood dripped down her cheek like crimson tears. She brought her hand up to her cheek and felt the blood, looking at it with eyes filled with horror.

Eric stopped breathing, and then spoke, "Is that...blood?"

Before anyone could speak more on the subject, a voice with a British accent, smooth as silk and sweet like honey spoke instead, "Why, yes, it is."


End file.
